


To See You Is To Love You

by cinnamontoastalex



Category: Rear Window (1954)
Genre: Divorce, Emotional Baggage, I wrote this for school and am strangely proud of it, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Suicide, New York City, Panic Attacks, Suicide Notes, candlelit dinner, manic crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:15:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24971416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnamontoastalex/pseuds/cinnamontoastalex
Summary: Miss Lonely-Hearts ponders her previous life whilst determining the value of her current life.
Kudos: 1





	To See You Is To Love You

She sniffles in-between howls and wails of manic crying. She catches herself foggy-headed and unable to remember how she ended up on her couch with her once whisky on the rocks, now just rocks, clutched in her hand, once again…alone. She tilts her neck up slowly, re-orientating herself among in her suffocating city apartment. She takes a longing stare out the window, her senses washing over the red brick and wilting flowerbeds. Her eyes drift to the only other apartment with the lights on at this late hour. She notices her nightmares come to life as she sees the embodiment of Glinda the good witch sway around the apartment. 

She instantly hates herself more as she knows there is one more beautiful woman in New York off stealing men. Valerie glowers as Glinda the good witch brings out a pristine dinner in one hand and two glasses of red in the other. A thought runs through her head to get herself a glass and join the party. However, upon the arrival of food, for the first time that Valerie is aware of, the handsome partner actually smiles. She mutters to herself that he is always glued on that window sit and subconsciously wonders why he constantly takes photos of the courtyard, it can’t be that interesting ?

As she removes herself from prying on the lives of others, she notices the wreckage of her own apartment. The floral carpet she never liked, the dinner table set for two, the closet filled to the brim with pricy dresses that she convinced herself she needed to feel content, the velvet couch that she spend many an hour contemplating and spiralling on, just like this very moment and the indulgent music circling her living room. The soft hum of her favourite song fills the air and she can’t help but analyse the lyrics as the enter her conscious; ‘…to see you is to love you…’. 

She feels her chest and throat tighten and her vision blur as she feels the sinking feeling of regret, anger, shame and utter loneliness. She peels her eyes off the unused candle lit dinner and back into her empty glass as if it holds all the answers to how she feels. She reminds herself that tonight is different, tonight is her last, and suddenly that is all the motivation she needs to focus. Valerie knows that all her fear, isolation and pain will no longer haunt her when the sun rises tomorrow morning. 

She calms her breathing, focusing on inhaling…. and exhaling… inhaling… and exhaling… and manages to stop the waterfall of tears from cascading down her face as she awkwardly puts her glass down. Her arthritic and tiresome hands rub across her cheeks in a feeble attempt to dry her face. She lets a few more tears slide as she feels the cool, smooth texture of her old wedding ring. She mentally curses at herself for still wearing that thing despite all the pain it represents. A thought crosses her mind quickly that her ghost will have wrecked makeup, and for once in her life, she doesn't bother or care to touch up by reapplying lipstick or powdering her nose. She simply lets one more single tear slide down her cheekbone. 

As Valerie rises from the couch, she taps into her newfound clarity to refill her glass. Her mind jumps at the idea of a nice conclusive glass of red, but she knows that to get through this she needs another whisky. She observes the gushing effect as the light brown liquid physically fills the glass and metaphorically attempts to fill her sorrows. She pauses for a moment, reminds herself that she is too isolated and alone for anyone to be able to judge her for this action, and grips the bottle by the neck to take it to the makeup table turned desk.

Valerie sits at her chair and reminisces on all the times she has sat here, redoing her red lip, full of hope that by going out that one night, that she would find the soul that connected and truly cared about her. She thought John was that connection. That, it would result in a lifetime of marriage, Mr and Mrs John Wright, together forever… Valerie shudders as she remembers the pain in which her name ends with his. The very fact that her entire life, including that name, was connected to a man who treated her so poorly. She also in this moment realises that soon, her last name won’t matter, he won’t nothing will matter…

As she spirals, Valerie takes another emotional swig of whisky, polishing off her second maybe third glass. Then her emotions hit her like a ton of bricks. She is overcome with a colossal wave of mixed emotions. Whilst mainly comprised of regret, remorse, and disappointment, it isn’t all directed towards herself. She feels regret for her family, her parents and sister who forever have to live in that small town with the stigma of her actions. It’s not normal for a small-town girl from Utah to run away from home, go to New York to become a teacher and also leave their husband behind. 

She feels disappointment for John, that such a genuine person can resort to unspeakable actions that scared her for life. But among it all, she feels a slither of pride, for the fact that she left. She made it out alive. She made it on her own. Valerie is proud that her life is placed in her own hands, that she created her own story. She may be miserably lonely, but Valerie created her own life in New York. 

In that moment, while wading knee deep in her intrusive thoughts, Valerie knows that she cannot bare it anymore. Her broken, abused, hysterical but most importantly lonely heart cannot go on anymore. She picks up her pen and musters every ounce of courage she has left. She starts to write, anything and everything. She picks up pace and lets her conscious be taken away from the work that her heart and hand are doing. She finally lets herself understand that pain is truly temporary, and for the first time, she leans into her sorrow. She repeats her mantra as she signs off on her final goodbye…

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading if you got this far, if my English teacher thought this was okay, hopefully you did too! It's a darker piece so if you need a hug, I'm sending once virtually to you rn <3


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